"There."
Her white-knuckled grip loosens as she pushes herself up on her elbows to look down.
Her face lights up when she sees it, despite the bit of blood.
"Does it look good?" she asks, her eyes bright as she shifts this way and that to try to look at it from different angles.
Fuck, could there be a woman more adorable than she is in this moment?
"It suits you."
"Yeah?"
"Definitely."
I clean my hands on the towel from the bathroom and then open my nightstand drawer to grab the small jar of honey I keep there. The antibacterial activity in the last batch of the season was off the charts.
"Is that safe?" Ro asks as I dip my pinkie finger into the honey and hold it over her belly button to let a fat droplet of gold fall, coating the fresh piercing.
"Do you think I'd do it if it weren't?" I lift my brow at her in challenge as the honey rolls over her belly button.
When I'm finished, I push my honey-coated digit into my mouth, sucking off the excess.
Aurora watches me through hooded eyes, her lips parting.
"You want a taste?"
She nods, and I pull her up to press my mouth to hers, delving my honey-coated tongue past the seam of her lips. She hums against my lips and then licks hers as I break the kiss.
"Thank you," she murmurs.
"Anytime, Ro."
8
BEST LAID PLANS
ELIJAH
Atticus is ready.
We just need Sev and Aurora now, but they're still in his room, laughing like a pair of teenagers while his speaker plays in the background, drowning out their conversation.
Atticus exits the kitchen, muttering something to himself as he comes into the living room, where I sit with my tea and phone.
I'll have to finish reading up on how thepréfecture de policein Paris still has no leads on who stole the Van Gogh fromLa Tante Sophistiquéelater.
"Would you go get them?" he snaps. "I was hoping we could get things moving today, but it's almost noon."
I guess he's finished cleaning up Sev's mess in the kitchen. From the look of it, he made himself and Aurora his famous pussy waffles earlier this morning. He bought the crude waffle iron last time we were in Australia, and he busts it out anytime he's feeling nostalgic for the good time we had there.
Fuck, we were just kids then. I was barely twenty. Mom was still alive. We had the world at our fingertips.
It was one of the last trips we had before everything went to shit.
I make no secret of my annoyance as I set my phone and empty cup down on the side table and stretch out the ache in my hand from holding it in the same position for a bit too long.
"He would've cleaned it up himself, you know," I point out. "The kitchen. Not everyone feels the need to clean up after every mess they make on the spot. Some people like to enjoy their mornings before adulting."
